Chapter 7 #3
Dwayne screamed at her and ran around the car. He hit the window next to her head, and Angelica winced. But it held. Car windows were difficult to break, thank goodness. She slammed the gearshift into reverse and hit the gas.
The SUV peeled out of the garage, and she ran into the front of Dwayne’s truck. She didn’t even wince. She had no idea what kind of damage she’d done to her car, but she didn’t care right now. All she cared about was getting away from her husband.
The cameras around the house would trigger a notification on Whip’s phone, but he was busy. And he’d probably assume it was simply her leaving to head his way. She was on her own.
Angelica managed to get the SUV turned around and gunned it down the street. Looking in the rearview mirror, she saw in dismay that Dwayne had recovered way faster than she’d hoped, and he was already coming up fast behind her.
Her first thought was to get to Whip. He’d protect her. But his earlier words echoed in her brain. How he’d kill Dwayne if he touched her. And while technically her husband hadn’t put his hands on her, Angelica didn’t think Whip would care about the distinction.
A sob escaped her as she did her best to stay ahead of Dwayne. The last thing she wanted was to be the reason Whip got into trouble. If he went to prison because of her, she’d never forgive herself.
Instead of turning toward town, she went the other way, hoping that she’d be able to lose Dwayne at some point on the curvy roads outside of Fallport.
Except she wasn’t losing him. He was staying right on her ass.
As soon as she had the thought, she felt him hit the back of her SUV.
Angelica gasped and struggled to keep the car on the road.
She’d made the wrong choice. She should’ve driven into Fallport.
Parked in the middle of the street on the square so there would be witnesses to whatever Dwayne decided to do.
Instead, she was on her own—and her husband was trying to kill her.
She wanted to call Whip but couldn’t take her eyes off the road or her hands off the steering wheel. Her knuckles were white as she clutched the wheel tightly.
“Leave me alone!” she yelled, knowing full well Dwayne couldn’t hear her.
He rear-ended her again, almost making her spin out. There were large trees on either side of the road now, and they were traveling at almost seventy miles an hour. This wasn’t good. Not good at all.
Glancing in the rearview mirror again, Angelica saw the evil smile on Dwayne’s face…the one she saw all the time right before he used to beat the crap out of her. He was enjoying this. Liked knowing she was terrified.
Looking back at the road, she cursed. There was a sharp turn ahead, and she was going to have to slow down in order to take it safely.
Which would give Dwayne another chance to run her off the road.
Waiting until the last minute, Angelica held her breath as she slammed on the brakes and wrenched the steering wheel to the right.
Her tires squealed as the back end of the SUV spun around, probably leaving huge skid marks on the road. After a second or two—during which she was positive she was going to lose control—she was able to right the vehicle, then stomp on the gas and shoot forward without being rear-ended again.
A deafening bang reverberated through the cab of the SUV.
Angelica’s entire body jerked. She looked in the side mirror—and to her amazement, saw a huge fireball erupting toward the sky.
Once again she slammed on her brakes, leaving more tread marks on the road behind her. She turned in her seat and stared at the destruction behind her with wide, startled eyes.
Dwayne’s truck was engulfed in flames, and there were car parts strewn all over the road and around the area where he’d crashed.
It took a moment for what she was seeing to sink in.
All Angelica could assume was that Dwayne hadn’t seen the curve until it was too late.
He was too drunk to remember it was there, too close to the back of her car…
and too focused on running her off the road.
Instead, he’d run off the road—straight into a group of huge trees.
Angelica was breathing as hard as if she’d just run a marathon.
Not that she’d ever do something as silly as run twenty-six miles for fun, but still.
Despite her heart and lungs working overtime, the rest of her felt paralyzed.
She didn’t know what to do. There was no way Dwayne could’ve survived that crash.
Not with how crushed the front of his truck was and the fire engulfing the entire thing.
She supposed she should do the humane thing and run toward it, see if she could rescue him. But her legs wouldn’t move. She was frozen in place.
As the fire crackled and spit, she suddenly became unstuck and frantically reached into her back pocket for her phone. Praying she had signal, she unlocked it and almost cried in relief when she saw she had one bar.
She dialed 9-1-1, and when someone answered, she quickly told them what happened. “My husband was trying to kill me. Trying to run me off the road. I took a curve and he didn’t. He crashed and his car blew up. There’s a huge fire. I’m afraid it’ll spread and start a forest fire.”
The 9-1-1 dispatcher had a ton of questions, but Angelica was too freaked out to answer them. She didn’t know the name of the road she was on, so she told the woman the route she’d taken after leaving Whip’s, then hung up.
She was still panting, half afraid Dwayne would somehow rise up from the flames and come after her once more. It was irrational, because there was no way he’d survived, but her fear was a living breathing thing.
So she called the one person in the world who could calm her at that moment.
Whip.